


coyotes don't howl

by deliciously_devient



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pining, Plotting, Unrequited Crush, coyote imagery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26592736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciously_devient/pseuds/deliciously_devient
Summary: Later, when they are boarding the Orca after a mission success, he notices that he can’t hear McCree’s footsteps behind him. When he looks, yes, there are those gaudy spurs, winking in the fluorescent lights.He decides, then, he wants to marry Jesse McCree.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 10
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have promised myself to write a chapter of this at least once a week until it is done, more if I can. Please, comment if you like it to keep my brain goblins motivated.

The first impression Hanzo gets of Agent Jesse McCree is not a good one. 

He’s rough, lackadaisical, and to be quite honest, appears to be a dullard. His eyes are brown and lack the spark of intelligence most of the other agents have. His spurs are loud, his dress is flashy and outdated, and he brings with him the scent of cloves. He always has an unlit cigar in his mouth, a filthy habit, and his clothes, while well-cared for, are worn and stained with years of wear. His beard is messy, unkempt, and his drawl is so thick it is sometimes hard to understand him, though Hanzo has a good grasp on the English language. He is told McCree’s speciality is black ops and stealth, and Hanzo casts one disbelieving look at the sharp spurs on his boots and prays he will not actually be in the field for any stealth missions.

McCree also seems to be rather out of shape, compared to the other agents; while his serape undoubtedly is meant to hide it, his middle is rather large, and he walks with a bow-legged gait that suggests more pounds than strictly necessary for the work they do.

Despite these flaws, however, Hanzo will admit McCree is an incredible shot; the few times he has seen the other man work in the practice range, his aim has been impeccable, even with the unwieldy weapon he chooses. His six-shooter seems impractical when Hanzo first sees it on his hip; it is huge, compared to other handguns, and even other revolvers of similar power, and he continues to think that until he sees McCree use it for the first time.

It is late at night, and sleep has eluded him once again, so he goes to the practice range, hoping to relieve some of his anxiety. The lights are on, and when he enters he sees McCree, fully dressed and standing at the end of the range with his gun out, the tip smoking. There are several destroyed practice bots slowly reassembling themselves, and as Hanzo watches, McCree spins the revolver, reloading it in one smooth, practiced motion with a little flourish that is both flashy and practical. It is a simple move that speaks of years of practice and devotion, and Hanzo’s opinion of the loud American raises, just slightly.

“Athena,” McCree says, voice rough and low. “Run program ‘Draw’.”

Athena doesn’t reply, but Hanzo watches six different practice bots start moving rapidly across all the ranges in jerking, random motions. Hanzo watches for several seconds, but there is no discernible pattern.

Six shots ring out in rapid succession, so close together they could almost be mistaken for a single shot, and the six bots fall to pieces neatly. McCree reloads his gun again, silently with that little spin and flourish, and  _ something  _ glints in his eye.

Hanzo leaves the training range as silently as he came, his opinion of the cowboy raising just a little more.

It is four months before Hanzo is actually assigned on a mission with McCree. He and the cowboy are tasked with an off-the-books type mission; they are meant to take out a target, and McCree is only there to cover Hanzo’s back in his perch atop a skyscraper in Bali.

He’s actually pleasant to work with; despite his habit of nattering on at base among the other agents, he seems to know Hanzo has no patience for such antics. He went over their mission details on the transport briskly, left out no details, and is surprisingly still as he covers Hanzo’s blind spots.

Two hours into their wait, Hanzo curses. The bugs they have set up have told him that their target is going to be exiting through a door they cannot see from this perch; he will have to move, and fast. He relays as much to McCree, and slings his bow over his shoulder before he is moving to his secondary perch. It requires him to take a leap over a building, almost fifteen feet across and a perilous climb up. He does not expect McCree to be able to follow him, but he is only there for emergencies. Hanzo would have preferred to go this alone.

He looks back, and sees McCree backing up. He scoffs to himself, reevaluating his opinion of the man again, disappointed but not surprised. When McCree takes a running leap at the gap, however, hand on hat, landing with a stylish -and practical- roll, without losing his hat or gun, he stares, slack-jawed.

McCree turns his eyes on Hanzo, a brilliant smile taking up his wide mouth as he tips his hat and  _ winks,  _ before pointing out their target is on the move. Hanzo scrambles to get into position, pulling his focus away from the fact that McCree did something he thought him incapable of and back to the mission.

Later, when they are boarding the Orca after a mission success, he notices that he can’t hear McCree’s footsteps behind him. When he looks, yes, there are those gaudy spurs, winking in the fluorescent lights.

He decides, then, he wants to marry Jesse McCree.


	2. Side B

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please continue to feed the brain goblin. Also dont be afraid to make suggestions, there was 0 plot other than a single tweet I will link at some point.

When Genji introduces his brother to Jesse, it isn’t the first time they’ve met; it isn’t even the second, or third, but he can tell by the look in Hanzo’s eyes that he doesn’t recognize him even a little bit. It tells him two things.

One; his alter ego as the assassin Coyote is well and truly safe, if someone with as keen eyes as Hanzo Shimada could not sniff him out. Two; he’s exactly as foolish as everyone else McCree has ever tricked into thinking he’s a dumb cowboy with good aim.

He doesn’t engage with Hanzo much outside some training exercises and team meetings; they don’t get paired often on missions, either, as McCree does most of his work solo and independent of the newly reformed Overwatch anyway. “Once a wetwork man, always a wetwork man,” Reyes used to say, and well. Things don’t change as much as people would like to think. Bad people still need to be taken out or taken in, dirty work still needs to be done.

The only thing the new Overwatch has going for it is that everyone in it seems to understand and respect the work Jesse does for them, which, he has to say, is quite the step up. It almost makes the facade he keeps up feel disingenuous around them, but.

He’s learned better than to trust anyone, especially not anyone from Overwatch.

Jesse has demons that live in his head, and every so often they circle ‘round at night, nipping at his heels and scaring the sandman away. So he’ll get up, do a few security sweeps, and eventually end up at the target range with his gun in his hand. He usually doesn’t dress up for these little late night forays, but he’s glad he listened to his instincts tonight because about halfway into his session Hanzo enters.

The small glance he catches shows a man in a worn t-shirt and sweats, hair in a loose bun and his bow in one hand. Seems McCree isn’t the only one outrunning his demons tonight.

He ignores Hanzo’s stare, the memories of his past deeds twisted up in his head too far for him to put on any kind of face for the other man, and instead commands Athena to run his program again. He watches the bots swarm for a second, before he pulls, and watches them fall the pieces again as his right eye burns.

Hanzo leaves without saying a word, and Jesse wonders if he made a mistake.

Their first mission together is pretty simple, and honestly, Jesse isn’t even sure why he’s there; Hanzo is more than capable of carrying out a simple assassination without supervision or help, but Winston had insisted he needed a second “just in case”. He keeps his chatter to a minimum, which is honestly a relief; playing up the chatty cowboy when he’s naturally recalcitrant is a strain sometimes, and it’s nice to be paired with someone who finds it annoying and gives him the perfect excuse to be quiet.

Hanzo works efficiently, quietly, and with a focus that would put most others to shame. He keeps the same pose in his perch for two hours without moving a muscle, face blank and without any sign of discomfort. When they do need to move, because their target is a shit head who can't stick to their schedule, he is swift and precise. 

Watching him leap across the buildings is something else; his body is a weapon honed to perfection, and in that moment, as he's suspended in the air, heat curls in Jesse's gut. 

His type always was dangerous. 

The look on his face tells Jesse he doesn't expect him to be able to follow, and Jesse knows the persona he's built up wouldn't be able to. 'Jesse McCree' as he exists to the new Overwatch is out of shape, and skilled only in one weapon, chatty, smokes too much and always has a smile ready. But something, something in the downturn of Hanzo's sneer makes anger twist, white hot, in Jesse's spine and so he takes a running leap, rolling in the air and landing lightly on his feet as he lifts himself up beside Hanzo. 

The ninja is staring at him, slack jawed, and for the first time in a while, a genuine grin crosses Jesse's face as he winks and reminds Hanzo their target is about to exit. 

He knows that was a mistake; he gave away too much and now Hanzo's sharp eyes will be on him. He'll have to be more careful from now on; he can already feel those sharp eyes on his back as they finish up and return on the Orca to Gibraltar. 

He can't help but feel a bit of a thrill at the prospect.


End file.
